


in media res

by librain



Series: non-linear narrative [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23677090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librain/pseuds/librain
Summary: in media res: a narrative opening in the middle of the plot.Hermione returns to her life post-war to see the man she had fallen in love with in the year 1979. How will Sirius react to seeing the woman he fell in love with twenty years later, after he lost so much when she left?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger
Series: non-linear narrative [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717054
Comments: 6
Kudos: 122





	in media res

**Author's Note:**

> i've always liked time turner stories, my favourite part being when hermione returns to present day, so this is my take on it.  
> this is my first fic and my beta is grammarly so be warned haha

Her feet landed on the dirt path with a thud, stirring up dust around her ankles. The large jumper she was wearing sagged off of her shoulder due to who it belonged to, or rather, had belonged to nearly twenty years ago.

She looked up to the familiar sight of the Burrow in front of her and watched as she saw her best friend, Harry Potter, burst through the front door and down the front steps, pausing once he took in her appearance.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?”

She sagged in relief, a small smile gracing her lips, once she realized she had returned home. She began to walk towards Harry when another figure appeared on the porch.

Sirius Black looked much like he did when she last saw him, albeit twenty years older. His hair still fell in dark waves to his shoulders. He still wore his same leather jacket James Potter had gifted him for his twenty-first birthday, the one with the broken zipper after it was taken off and tossed aside carelessly one heated night. And he still had the same look in his eyes. The one that said he didn’t know whether to scream or cry, or neither, because he was frustrated and sad and angry beyond belief and absolutely gutted.

She saw that same look on his face after receiving a Floo call from Alastar Moody on the first of November 1981.

At the sight of his stony expression, Hermione stiffened. Sirius took two steps forward to lean against the porch rail, his eyebrow raised in a careful movement, eyes not leaving hers. Hermione’s posture became erect and her chin jutted upwards as if to challenge him.

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them in confusion not understanding the tension radiating between his godfather and his best friend.

“Is someone going to explain to me what’s happening?”

At the sound of Harry’s voice, Hermione broke the staring contest and looked to him, trying but failing to explain just what happened the past few hours, or a few years for her.

Sirius sighed, then opened the door to go back inside the Burrow, finally opening his mouth to say, “Well, are you coming in?”

Harry walked through the front door, looking over his shoulder warily to see Hermione standing where he left her.

“I’m going to go see what tea Mrs. Weasley has that I can prepare for us. I’ll also make sure no one is in the living room so we can talk” Harry said, before crossing the threshold into the warm home.

Hermione began to follow him, pausing at the door to look up to Sirius. He looked down into the brown eyes he hadn’t seen in nearly twenty years. The years before she went back, he told himself, didn’t count. Her eyes now were the ones that knew him.

“Sod it,” he said, before reaching his hands into her hair and pulling her lips to his. She made a surprised noise in the back of her throat before she reached back to grab him by the lapels on his blazer and gave in to his kiss.

The kiss was not gentle by any means. It was not romantic. It was angry, violent, with gnashing teeth, biting lips, and a clawing at each other that screamed the desperation they felt. When they finally came up for air, gasping, Sirius rested his forehead on Hermione’s and said, “I missed this bloody jumper.”

Hermione looked up at him, quirking her head to the side, smirking.

“Is that the only thing you missed?”

The two were too caught up in each other to notice Ron Weasley approach the front door from the backyard, where he was tasked with retrieving more napkins for the family party going on that evening.

“What the bloody fuck is going on here?”

* * *

The air in the living room was tense. Harry and Ron sat together on the sofa; the tea tray was forgotten on the table in front of them. Hermione sat in a chair opposite them with Sirius holding the back.

“I’m not really sure where to begin,” Hermione started, looking up to Sirius who hadn’t said anything since they all sat down.

Ron snorted. Harry stayed silent, having been filled in by Ron on what he missed on the front porch.

“The first time I met Hermione was not in the Shrieking Shack during your third year,” Sirius began. “I met her on my twentieth birthday in 1979.”

“The morning of Sirius’ fortieth birthday party, or this morning I suppose, I was transported back in time twenty years by the Time Turner I used in our third year. I don’t know who set it- “

“Minerva did,” Sirius interrupted.

“Professor McGonagall?” Harry asked. “But why?”

“Because it had already happened for us, she just had to ensure it happened again, but that’s not really important right now. Hermione,” he said, addressing her for the first time, “Continue with the story.”

“Right,” she replied, surprised by the information that her favourite professor was the one to tamper with the Time Turner. “I arrived in Diagon Alley of 1979 on Sirius’ twentieth birthday, running to him and the rest of the Marauders in the Leaky Cauldron that evening.

“I, of course, already knew who they were. Having some knowledge of their lives at the time and not wanting to interfere in the lives of too many strangers lest I change something I did not know the outcome of in my timeline, I became friends with them.”

“We knew Hermione as Jean, or Jeanie as James and I liked to call her, but of course I figured out who she was years later,” Sirius supplied.

“But how did that, become,” Harry gestured to the two of them, “This?”

Ron sat silently fuming, the jealousy clear on his face. He and Hermione attempted a relationship after the war ended but it fizzled out by the end of summer once they realized they were more compatible as friends.

Hermione began to speak again. “I didn’t intend to get too deeply involved with Sirius or anyone else from that time. I knew I couldn’t do anything to change the events as they were meant to unfold. I also knew that I didn’t have a prolonged presence in that decade due to the lack of lasting evidence of me. We were friends first before it became more.”

“How long were you there?” Harry asked.

“The Time Turner brought me back shortly after midnight on the first of November 1981,” Hermione replied.

“So, you were there when- “

“No,” Sirius answered tightly, “She was already gone when I returned from Godric’s Hollow.”

With that Sirius stormed back outside, and the trio heard the pop of Apparation from where they sat in the living room.

“I need to follow him,” Hermione said, standing up.

Ron still looked angry, asking, “Really Hermione? Him? He’s way too old- “

“Don’t,” she replied.

Harry looked between his two friends and sighed. “He’ll be at Grimmauld. I’ll go back outside and tell Mrs. Weasley he went home feeling sick, you should owl her in the morning to let her know why you weren’t here.”

Hermione nodded and went to the Floo, shouting out her destination.

* * *

“Sirius?” she called out, searching the old home for him. She found him in the drawing room, a bottle of Firewhiskey already open and an old vase that must have belonged to his mother shattered to pieces on the floor.

“Sirius,” she nearly whispered, looking up to see the tears on his face.

“You left me,” he said shakily. “I came home that night and you were gone.”

“I know, I had no choice the Time Turner was set- “

“You knew. You knew what would happen to them, what would happen to me and you didn’t say anything!”

“I couldn’t! You know I couldn’t, it would have changed everything- “

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, JEANIE!”

Hermione didn’t, couldn’t reply, because she wasn’t dead, and she wasn’t really Jeanie, and he knew that and has known that but nothing she said could fix the pain he had felt over the past 18 years.

“I thought,” he laughed humourlessly, “I thought that Peter had told them where to find you, and I thought they killed you too.”

He began to pace while she felt tears run down her cheeks.

“I went to Azkaban, you know. Of course, you know, you knew everything, know everything. I went to Azkaban thinking you were dead and hoping you weren’t, because at least with James and Lily there were bodies. There was proof that they lived and died, and I could somehow work to reconcile with that. But with you? I came home and you were gone, everything you had owned had disappeared as if you never existed.

“And I was alone. I couldn’t go to Remus because he was off on a mission with the werewolves. I couldn’t go to the Order because they thought I was still Secret Keeper. I couldn’t go to my best friends because they were either dead or traitors. And I couldn’t go to you because you were gone.”

Hermione was shaking, trying to hold in her sobs. She knew this was a conversation they had to have but, Merlin it was hard.

“You knew who I was,” she started. “You have known who I was since you left Azkaban, so why didn’t you say anything?”

“Merlin Hermione, you were fourteen. How was I supposed to tell a teenager that they would grow up to become the love of my life?

She didn’t respond. She watched him grab the bottle of Firewhiskey and take a seat on the dusty settee in front of the fireplace. After a beat, she sat down next to him, pointing her wand to the fireplace and igniting the logs that remained there. They sat in silence for the next few minutes, just listening to the crackling of the logs in the hearth.

“I was going to ask you to marry me.”

Hermione’s head snapped to him; his eyes still focused on the fire.

“Not that day, or probably any day immediately after. But soon. I was planning to wait until Voldemort was gone, or at least things calmed down a bit. James was going to be my best man, Remus could have walked you down the aisle, Harry could’ve been ring bearer, given that he could walk more than three steps at a time by the day our wedding came. But I did want to marry you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Wanted?” Hermione asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer. It had only been hours since she last saw him, but it was years since he last saw the woman he was in love with.

Sirius sighed, and instead of answering her question, he asked another, “Why did you say yes, when I asked you out all those years ago? You knew who I was, why would you say yes if you knew what I would become?”

Hermione paused, unsure of how he would respond to her revelation.

“Because I was already in love with you at this time, before I met you in 1979.”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He stared at the dying fire, flames reflecting in his still glassy eyes. At his lack of response, Hermione stood to leave but Sirius grabbed her wrist.

“Stay,” he said, pulling her back down next to him, much closer than how she’d been sitting before.

“For how long?” she asked.

“Forever, I hope.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i may expand on this with a potential sequel or prequel of when they met, let me know your thoughts!


End file.
